Like To Be You ✓

fifteen

memez are kool (☞⌐▀͡ ͜ʖ͡▀ )☞

o-o-o

I lean back against my pillows and close my eyes. The conversation in the Principal's office replays in my head for the hundredth time. I'll specify the gist of it.

Mom: You know my son has anxiety issues. He repeatedly asked to be excused for the day with the promise of fulfilling detention tomorrow, and a teacher declined, fine, I understand. But then the teacher sees the child having a panic attack plus horrible anxiety with his past, and she doesn't react? Students have to come to the rescue even with the presence of an adult?

Principal Mathers(awkward cough): Well, I won't try to make any excuses, but Neil was late to class, and as Mrs Trahan recounts, this has happened a lot of times before.

Me: It's all because of David Mahajan. He bullied me and threw my book to the ground. Moby-Dick, first edition.

Mom(gasping): He threw it to the ground? And he still bullies you? What values do you teach the kids in this school?

Principal Mathers(also gasping): Why would you bring such an expensive book in the first place, Mr Graham?

Me(offended): With all due respect, Sir, you're asking the wrong questions.

Mom(trying to calm herself by smoothing her already-smoothed hair): Mr Mathers, suitable action needs to be taken.

I'd zoned out after that, only picking up bits and pieces of words like "community service", "manners", "David Mahajan", and "learn how to deal with things properly, Mr Mathers". I'd been too busy staring at Tyler's and Zayne's reflection in the glass window behind Mr Mathers's head. Then Mom had offered to drive them home, and they'd had politely declined, and she'd thanked them.

Mom opens the door to my room, interrupting my inner monologue, and carries a plate of cookies to my bed. I smile at her. She smiles back, kisses me, and hands me a glass of warm milk. I dunk a cookie in it and take a bite.

"I ordered Chinese." She says. "Your favourite dumplings and some kung-pao and fried rice."

"I love you," I say, "Not just because of the food. But for everything. I love you, Mom."

Mom smiles again and says, "I love you too, baby."

I huddle under the covers and make some space for her. She climbs over next to me and I rest my face against the curve of her neck. She rubs my arm and says, "I talked to Jacob about the restraining order today," Harvey Jacob is our lawyer, and my father's close friend since college days. He looks like Mark Ruffalo if Mark Ruffalo had blond hair and a surfer tan. "He said we'll have to pay more to renew it."

That's right, folks. The Court had no charges against Randall Higley and no proof to place a restraining order, so we bribed our way through it, because what's the use of money if we can't even protect ourselves from fucking psychopaths like him? Randall's restraining order is currently on hold, and he'd promised that the day he'd be free from it, he'd come after us, and today was supposed to be that day. I keep stealing looks at my phone, which is connected to the security surveillance of our house.

I sigh and press a kiss to her head. "I freaked out today. Everybody'll think I'm crazy."

My mother frowns at me. "What happened to the Neil, who quote-unquote, doesn't give a shit?"

"Yeah, well, he's currently napping."

"We better wake him up then. He's been napping for quite a few hours now."

"Mom," I groan and slide down in my covers, snuggling into them. "I'm tired. I wanna sleep. Wake me up when the food comes." I look up at her with puppy eyes.